"You cannot live your life in fear; otherwise, you will forsake the best parts of it."
Over the centuries, House Targaryen has produced both great men and monsters. Prince Daemon was both. In his day there was not a man so admired, so beloved, and so reviled in all Westeros. He was made of light and darkness in equal parts. To some he was a hero, to others the blackest of villains.
ZYHOR - an independent Daemon Targaryen from House of the Dragon / Fire and Blood. Penned by Moon (she/her, 30+). Show based with book influences (book verse available).
Please read the rules and trigger warnings below the cut:
My portayal follows the show events but is heavily influenced by the book Fire and Blood. A book verse is available. My AKOTSK verse is in the works, as well as a GOT verse.
This is Targaryen territory and Daemon is a menace. You know what that means. Trigger warning for incest, murder, violence, child death, grooming, etc. I'm not holding anything back that is show or book canon. If you can't stomach it, then this is not the blog for you. I don’t have any personal triggers, but I make sure to tag common ones like spiders, gore, etc.
This is a selective blog, I only write threads with mutuals. Everyone is welcome to send me asks, regardless of mutual status.
I love crossovers! Even if I’m unfamiliar with your muse’s fandom, it only makes the interaction more authentic.
The best way to start an interaction with me is by sending me memes! Please don’t reblog memes directly from me, reblog them from the original source instead.
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Dear personal and non-RP blogs: Please don’t reblog my threads. It’s not fair to my writing partners. Thank you!
v: the rogue prince - covers anything before his marriage to Rhaenyra, including his stay in Pentos with Laena and his job of Commander of the City Watch
v: king consort - season 2 and onwards
v: game of thrones - instead of dying after his battle with Aemond he finds himself yoinked into the future and is now Daenerys' problem and protector
v: a knight of the seven kingdoms - I have yet to figure this one out
and aside from that, custom verses for very particular shenanigans and ships as they are being developed
aurora was uncomfortable. evident in her rigid posture and the way eyes remained downcast as she followed her father wordlessly through the corridors until they arrived in the large ballroom. " papa, is this really necessary? " aurora whispered but the immediate hand raised told her to keep her words and queries to herself. inaudible sigh spilled as she came to a stop behind father, lifting gaze slightly to look at the two men talking to her father. / @zyhor.
Lord Seymour's arrival was only noteworthy because of his company. His daughter was rarely seen and wagging tongues did most of the work. Some claimed she was hideously deformed and thus kept at home. Others swore she was a beauty and so her father hoarded her like a treasure. Daemon was pleased to see the latter was true.
Her uneasiness was obvious and little wonder. The Red Keep was intimidating for those who were unused to valyrian splendors. The sight of this shy maiden next to a tapestry that showed a debouched orgy almost made Daemon laugh.
The prince shifted his attention from Lord Seymour to the Lady Aurora. He would much rather prefer her company over her stuffy father's who came to petition and demand. "Is this your first time in the Keep, my lady? Perhaps a tour would be in order, while your father discusses surely very important matters with the king."
“i wasn't expecting to run into you again.” // said aemond with much love. i lied he is being a cunt
The Red Keep had lost all its splendor when the Hightowers removed all Targaryen regalia and replaced it with the boring Seven-Pointed-Star. Gone was the valyrian art of the dragon lords and dragons mating. Anything that was remotely exciting had been taken away, since the Faith valued only boredom and hated any kind of lust, passion and joy.
Daemon had prowled the hallways, growing angrier and angrier by the moment. The Hightower's disgusting fingerprints were all over the walls and ceilings. They had been allowed too much freedom and were too comfortable in their disrespect. He would not tolerate any of this. This place was built by Targaryens, for Targaryens.
So when Aemond rounded the corner, Daemon was delighted. His nephew would make a suitable target for his ire, and catching him unawares had been a surprising joy among this dull visit in the Red Keep. Daemon and Rhaenyra had only just arrived from Dragonstone, so it was not surprising Aemond had not anticipated him.
Daemon kept walking, right into Aemond, forcing him backwards, until his back was against the wall. His left hand came to rest on the wall next to Aemond's hand, while his right moved to rest upon the pommel of Dark Sister. Daemon's lips pulled into a sneer. "I must hand it to your mother. She managed to make a place as awe inspiring as the Red Keep a dreadful crypt. It takes skill to dull glory so efficiently."
He stepped closer to his nephew until their faces were mere inches apart. Aemond had grown a lot, he was now as tall as Daemon himself, and slender. By watching him in the courtyard, Daemon had seen that he had become a skilled warrior. It was all very promising, if only he was not half Hightower. Just like Alicent's devout sigils of the Faith in a place of Dragons, his Hightower blood weakened him.
"And you just watched, did you not? You are the blood of the dragon and you watched as she pulled your teeth and clipped your claws. You probably even thanked her for it. Next you will offer her your throat to open if she so desires."
She was correct. He was avoiding her. And why did he do so? The answer was as simple as it was unforgivable: he was overwhelmed and unsatisfied. A weak reason for a father to avoid his daughter. Even Daemon was aware of that, and so he now tried to not only run from Baela, but also his own feelings in the matter.
"Would it comfort you to know that you are not the only one I am avoiding?" Whether it was Baela, or even Rhaenyra, currently Daemon did not have the nerves and the stomach to speak to anyone who was not a fighting man under his command. In fact, his own soldiers were the easiest company to have. He drank with them, sang with them, bled with them. Life could be so easy.
He disagreed with Rhaenyra's decisions, or sometimes the lack thereof, and he resented the losses they endured, but she was his queen and Baela was loyal to her. Daemon did not wish to draw Baela into his spiral of doubt, dissastisfaction and growing unrest.
"I make for rotten company these days."
Still, he missed his daughter. He loved her. She was his brave, powerful dragon rider. She was not only a lot like him but also her mother's daughter. He reached out to place a hand on Baela's shoulder. "It is not you who is lacking."
Do you also always flipflop between "it's more convenient to reply to asks in the ask format" and "i want to reply to an ask in a new post because it's tidier" or are you normal
@celevrian said: “i can't decide whether people truly change, or if they just become better at hiding parts of themselves.” - from Nimloth
Ah, beautiful Nimloth. She looked like a valyrian statue come alive. The lyseni whores with valyrian blood and eyes of the dragonlords that drew Daemon in paled in comparison to this elven woman, who had not a single drop of said blood. Nimloth's eyes were indigo instead of lilac, but still those coupled with her gleaming silver hair captivated Daemon to a worrisome degree.
Daemon had been very obvious in his interest in her, despite the venomous looks it earned him from her grandson. But so far the Lady Nimloth only enjoyed his company with caution. She was clearly wary of him, but not entirely uninterested. She was a widow, and widows needed comfort. Daemon waited for the day where she might take him up on his offer.
He set the teacup down - intricate and elegant, like all the tableware in this elven realm - and smirked at her. Much to his own surprise, he had come to grow very fond of the various herbal teas they served here. He planned to ask for a few boxes of the tea and would tie them to his saddle, so that he may take some back home on Caraxes.
"People change, my lady. For the worse, mostly. Each of us is capable of depravity. Life finds one way after the other to make us stoop lower and lower each time we make a decision that benefits us. But I would rather sink and live than tread on moral high ground only to perish for it. A hero always dies a fool. At the same time we do grow adept at hiding parts of ourselves, but nothing can be hidden forever."
Daemon has absolutely no respect for the exclusive aspect of marriage.
"Marriage is only a political arrangement. Once you are wed, you can do as you like."
This is not how it works, Daemon. And Rhaenyra is right when she says certainly not for the woman. "For a woman it is like a death sentence" indeed. The man gets away with almost anything but it is a rigid, binding contract for the woman, who is punished by society if she dares to act out aka like the man.
Because yes, Daemon was unhappy in his marriage to Rhea, but he was able to escape it and whore around as he pleased. This marriage was far more dreadful for Rhea, who was stuck with an absent, hateful and disrespectful husband.
Daemon can love you and also use you. These things aren't mutually exclusive to him. For example he loves Rhaenyra, but he also uses her as a vehicle to gain power.
Her annoyance was met with an infuriating grin. Daemon neither denied she spoke true, nor was he ashamed of his famously large ego. "So you have heard of me. Very good."
